


The Why

by amporasbitch



Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Allusions to WKM, Angst, Drabble, Established Relationship, I wrote this in class lmao, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amporasbitch/pseuds/amporasbitch
Summary: Yandere knows a lot about Dark, but it doesn't feel like enough.





	The Why

Yandere knows a lot about Dark. He knows how Dark takes his coffee, how he prefers to tie his tie. He knows the meaning of each quirk of his brow and every inflection in his voice. He knows how to tell when Dark’s just gotten back from messing with a human, and how to tell if it went well. He knows what Dark likes to eat and what songs he can play on the piano. He knows where Dark goes to press his suits and which kind of chocolate is his favorite.

He knows all this from various places. A chunk of it came from observation, the constant watching and spying he used to do before he and Dark were together. It’s how he knows what expression Dark makes when he knows he’s being watched, and how Dark moves when he wants to be lost in the crowd. Eventually, though, he began to learn things from firsthand experience. He learned how things like genuine affection and concern look on Dark’s face, and learned the way his voice changes when he talks to someone he really cares about. He learned how Dark loves.

Yandere knows almost everything there is to know about Dark, yet there’s still something missing. He knows who Dark likes and dislikes, he knows where he does and doesn’t like to go. He knows what Dark does, what he feels and what he wants, and he knows how Dark does it, shows it, expresses it. He knows the who, the where, the what, the how.

What he doesn’t know is the why.

He doesn’t know why Dark’s aura wraps around him like a blanket, instead of sitting inside him like Bim’s and Wilford’s do. He doesn’t know why Dark’s heart doesn’t beat, why his skin is so cold. He doesn’t know why his neck is always cracking, why his bones don’t cooperate with him all the time. He doesn’t know why he gets so angry and almost sad every time Wilford forgets how death works. He doesn’t know why Dark so dislikes – or even, dare Yandere think it, fears – high places and rail-less balconies. He doesn’t know why, for all the times Dark has been injured or killed, his skin is clear aside from the dark circle of a bullet wound scar on his abdomen. He doesn’t know why Dark flinches when he touches it.

No matter how much Yandere watches and listens, no matter how much he and Dark do together, he can’t figure out a single why. He tries to ask, sometimes; ask why Dark’s aura acts the way it does or why his body is the way it is or why certain things unnerve him. Never all at once, though, and never too strongly. Yandere will ask a single question, sometimes earnestly, sometimes feigning nonchalance, always asking when Dark is in a good mood. But it doesn’t matter how gently he asks or how content Dark is, for those questions are the most surefire way to get Dark to shut down. If he does answer, he gives a response so cryptic that it leaves Yandere with even more questions, more whys to add to the pile. If Yandere tries to press the issue, Dark doesn’t let him.

“I’m done talking about this, Yandere,” he’ll say, authoritative in a way Yandere can’t hope to protest. He’ll turn away and there will be uncomfortable silence for many minutes after.

It’s during those minutes that Yandere, for all he’s seen of Dark, feels like he doesn’t know him at all.


End file.
